I slept nearly 12 hours after yesterday. I tried to stay up later, figuring if I went to bed too early I’d only wake up early the next morning, but by 8pm last night I couldn’t stand it anymore. We’d discussed going to see a movie after dinner, but I could barely keep my eyes open. I think part of why I was so exhausted was that I’d donated platelets Thursday morning (or at least I’m going to use that as a really good excuse).
We pondered riding our bikes to church this morning. The pondering lasted all of about 30 seconds, before Richard pointed out that the choir folders were too big to fit in the handlebar bags, and I noted the same problem with my mom’s corsage box. Yes, we could have stuffed them in a backpack, but after yesterday’s ride, the incentive just wasn’t there, even for a few measly miles.
After church, we drove around the back roads, scouting out new routes for future rides. One downside to doing longer trips on weekday mornings is that we’re rapidly running out of alternatives. Right now we’ve got one loop that we know is about 8 miles, and we’re stuck with that until we find something else. The biggest issue with the morning rides is, quite simply, time. On weekends we can afford to let the ride take over an hour, but there is only so early either of us is willing to get up for exercise. The current wake-up call for 5:45 am is uncomfortably close to pushing that envelope.
********Since it was Mother’s Day, I got to play mommy. Actually, that wasn’t the real reason, but the timing worked out. A friend’s mom is fostering two little three-week old kittens and since the mom was out of town this weekend, the friend had them. She brought them to church with her, since those of us in choir have to be there far earlier than everyone else, and during the normal Sunday school time, she set up bottles of kitten formula, and the two of us fed the kittens. We set ourselves in the back of the sanctuary since it was practically empty at the time, and was also the only place where there wasn’t a Sunday school class. But we ended up with one of the adult classes all huddled around us anyway, cooing over the tiny kittens who obliged all the attention by being just as cute as they possibly could. I had the little girl – an orange tabby – who had quite the personality. After she finished her bottle (purring the whole time) she sat on my lap and played in slow motion with my fingers and her tail. I held her as long as I could, letting her nibble my fingers and bat at my hair. It was awfully hard to put her back in that carrier when she finally fell asleep in the crook of my elbow. I can hold a human baby until they fall asleep on me (assuming of course that they are not drooling and therefore invoking my drool-linked nausea. Yes, I’m strange), and I feel nothing - not one drop of baby desire. But give me a tiny ball of fluff and a bottle to feed her with and I am lost, head over heels, and wishing for kittens of my own.